The Forgotten Luna

[Third Person] The wind howled through the Cloud Forest Pack. Nestled in the heart of the Appalachian wilds, where indigenous people of North Carolina discovered mist and magic, the Cloud Forest Pack’s land breathed life into all who called it home. Between towering spruce and endless moss-covered stone, their cabins stood hidden beneath the canopy, threaded with charm lines and moon-touched wards. It was a place of balance between man and wolf, earth and sky, and power and peace. The balance has just begun to unravel. Anna Elias stood barefoot in the grass outside her cottage, the cold of the dew soaking through her jeans. Her fingertips tingled, first in warning, then with pain. The wards she had woven around their home were being torn, strand by strand, as though something feral were clawing her magic. She turned her face toward the sky. The stars above flickered. “Elijah!” She called, her voice sharp with urgency. “They’ve broken the first ring!” Inside the cottage, a chair scraped against wood. Heavy boots hit the floor. Elijah Elias, Alpha of the Cloud Forest Pack, was at the door in seconds. His presence filled the clearing, tall and broad-shouldered, his dark curls tousled from sleep. A scar traced the line of his jaw, a souvenir from battles past. Power radiated off him in waves, the strength that all Alphas possessed. He stepped beside his mate and reached for her hand. “How many?” He asked. Anna didn’t answer. Her eyes were distant, far away, listening to something deeper than sound. “All of them,” she finally whispered. “The whole Circle. Every one of them. And others, strays. Ferals. Those who follow the Coven.” Elijah’s body went still. “They’re coming for her.” Anna nodded. “The prophecy won’t let them sleep.” Inside the cottage, a soft voice called sleepily, “Mama?” Their daughter, Astrid. Only five years old, and already so bright, too bright. She had strange dreams sometimes, but her laughter was like hearing twinkling stars. She spoke of things no child should know. Born beneath a blood eclipse and cradled by both wolf and with, Astrid Elias was a contradiction written in flesh and prophecy. Anna turned toward the door. “There’s still time.” She said. “I’ll take her to the circle.” “No,” Elijah said, his voice raw. “We warn the pack first. We fight.” She looked at him, tears already shimmering in her eyes. “We won’t win.” “That doesn’t matter.” Elijah kissed his mate, fierce and fast, before pulling away and disappearing into the trees, already shifting mid-stride. His smooth skin turned into fur before her eyes. The Alpha was running. Anna knelt and gathered Astrid in her arms. “Mama?” The little girl murmured, pressing her cheek into Anna’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?” “It’s time for our hiding game, sweetheart,” Anna whispered. “The one with the special circle. Remember?” Astrid nodded sleepily. “The sparkly one.” “Yes. The sparkly one.” Anna’s throat tightened. “You are going to be very brave, my moonbeam.” In the cottage’s back chamber, behind a false wall hidden beneath a hanging quilt, was a tunnel of roots and stone, hand-carved and sealed with spellwork. Anna had built it the moment Astrid was born, because some prophecies don’t leave mothers any peace. At the tunnel’s end was the safe room, a chamber of salt, silver, and ash-lined runes. Protective herbs hung from the ceiling like drying flowers. A circle of power was drawn on the floor, pulsing faintly with soft blue light. Anna set Astrid down inside the circle and placed a carved charm in her hand. “This will glow while the magic holds. Do you see it?” Astrid nodded. “Will you come back?” Anna’s hands trembled as she cupped her daughter’s face. “I will always be with you. Even if you can’t see me.” She kissed her, stood, and whispered the sealing command. The tunnel closed behind her like the shutting of a tomb. And then the night screamed. It started with the howls, long, sharp, and desperate. Then came the scent of blood and ash on the wind. The Cloud Forest Pack was under siege. Elijah led the defense himself. At his side were wolves he had known since childhood, his Beta Caleb and the eldest Elder, Mira, whose fur had grayed long ago. They fought on instinct and fury, teeth to throat, claw to skin. But this was no battle. It was an execution. The witches came in swarms, cloaked in crimson spells and armed with magic that corrupted the land beneath their feet. They wielded incantations that split trees and lit wolves on fire from within. Anna joined the fray, hurling bolts of raw energy and sacred moonlight. She burned through the first wave, screaming Elijah’s name. They fought back to back, mates bound by love and war. But for every witch they felled, three more emerged. The Circle was vast, and tonight, it had united with one cause. To kill Astrid and end the prophecy. The Cloud Forest Pack fell one by one. Caleb died shielding three young pups who never made it past the tree line. Mira cast her final spell to blind the seers, then was torn apart by cursed flame. Elijah, died as he lived, fighting for his family. He fell to his knees, arrows piercing his ribs, as he reached for Anna. She turned in time to see him collapse. “No,” she whispered. And then louder. “NO!” Anna screamed, and the sky split open. She unleashed a final burst of power so blinding it scorched the trees and knocked the witches back in a wave of holy fire. Her hands bled from casting beyond her limits, and her hair blazed white. In that moment, she was no longer Anna Elias. She was a storm. She dragged herself to the mouth of the hidden tunnel, blood pouring down her arms. One last spell. One final seal. She knelt and whispered the ancient words. And with her final breath, she burned the entrance closed. Safe. Let her be safe. Inside the circle, Astrid clutched her charm to her chest. The walls trembled. The world above her burned. Her parents’ screams echoed faintly through the stone, but the circle held. When the morning came, the Cloud Forest pack was gone. Ash drifted like snow. The cabins were ruins. The clearing was silent, and beneath it all, in a chamber that still pulsed with faint magic, a five-year-old girl sat in a perfect circle of light, her eyes wide, her breath quiet. She was the only survivor. The prophecy lived on.